What's It Like to be an Artist in a Money Driven World?

It’s been quite some time since I’ve been around people who understood the artist’s need to create. In college, most of my friends were also artists. Whether they were painters, graphic designers, musicians, or fellow writers, they understood the drive all creatives feel to make things that are their own. They understood the feeling an artist gets when they’re creating; that pure love of what they are doing. That feeling that at that moment they are being the best person they could possibly be. For an artist, work isn’t really work (although that isn’t to say it’s always easy). We do it because we love it. Trust me, it certainly isn’t for the money.

For me being an artist isn’t easy. I don’t come from a family of artists. I come from a family of accountants and health care workers. I come from a family where the bottom line is, having a good job that supports yourself or your family is what is most important. I grew up in a religion that values careers of service such as ministry and health care as being the only valid options. I have a mother that is all about doing what’s practical not what you love, and if you love what is practical, then you are one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to muddle through life feeling like each day is chore. Well, despite all the messages around me growing up that told me being an artist was an invalid career option, I’m the daughter who loves what isn’t practical. So for me, being an artist has never been easy.

I think I was about 11 years old when I first decided I wanted to turn my love of reading into a career. I had never thought I could do any extraordinary before that moment. I figured, I like my entire family would end up being a teacher, nurse or physical therapist, like my parents (accounting was out of the question as I have never had much love for math.) When adults would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never knew what to say. Each time I had a different answer, but the truth was that none of the careers I knew of appealed to me. So my 11 year old brain thought it had an identity crisis because it couldn’t come up with an answer the grown ups wanted to hear, such as nurse or doctor. Then one day my best friend made a suggestion that changed my life. “Let’s write a book together.” It was the first time any thought of doing something creative with my life had ever entered my mind. It was the first moment it had ever dawned on me that my over active imagination could be an asset to me. And so we began writing a book about two twin girls, based off of us of course only they were ACTUALLY sisters, who were heading west on the Oregon Trail. I think we wrote maybe a couple chapters before that story petered out. But I didn’t stop there. I started trying to write stories on my own, and that spark stayed with me forever. I just knew that one day I would be a published novelist.

To be honest it’s the only thing I’ve ever really wanted to do with my life. It’s the only career that I’ve ever felt passionate about, yet if you look at my life today, you’d never know that my goal was to be a writer. Why? Because the only indication that I’m a writer is that occasionally I’ll tell some “I’m a writer” or joke with my husband about “when I’m a famous writer.” But I don’t write. It’s been years since I’ve written anything other than the occasional blog post or short story for that one class I took two years ago to try to get myself out of my rut. In fact, in the almost 4 years since I graduated from college, my life has seemingly taken a complete 180 from my goals.

I think it all started for me in high school, when my practical mother couldn’t understand why her bookworm daughter wouldn’t give up the dream of being a writer and choose a practical major for college. In the end, she talked me into studying Journalism instead of English because in her words, it was similar and at least I’d have a chance of supporting myself with that degree. So five years later, I ended up with a degree in Communications with an emphasis in journalism. And I wasn’t entirely thrilled it.

I did enjoy my college experience. In fact, it’s probably one of the best times of my life. For the first time, I found myself surrounded by like-minded people who understood the need to create over the need to make money. Sure there were some who judged us saying that we’d never make enough money, but they didn’t understand. That wasn’t our goal. During college, I formed a fantastic group of friends that encouraged each other in their writing and other art forms. It was so supportive and wonderful. For a short time, I really believed that I could do it.

Then I graduated and found myself moving back home to my parents’ house because I couldn’t find a job. After 6 month of bumming around on friends couches and hanging out in coffee shops, I didn’t have any money and decided I would finally give in and accept my parents offer to move back home. That was when I kind of gave up on writing. I was pushed by parents to “get any job I could find” instead of holding out for something I actually wanted, after all I had to start paying on those pesky student loans. So first I was a cashier at Sam’s Club, then I ended up, of all places, in the medical field. Opportunity knocked, and I felt I didn’t have any other options. So, I abandoned my dreams for a steady paycheck and benefits.

Now I’m not saying that my post college life has been terrible, because it hasn’t. This was the time that I met my husband, and that was wonderful. But my post college career, has been less than fulfilling. It isn’t because it’s a bad job. It isn’t. It’s really quite a decent career and I don’t hate it. But, it isn’t fulfilling because it isn’t what I love. And ultimately, I’m an artist at heart and artist are the kind of people that need to be doing what they love in order to be truly happy and fulfilled. We are meant to create and when that creativity is stifled we become trapped and unhappy, even if to the outside world we have everything going for us. And at some point, I allowed my creativity to be stifled to the point where I just gave in and accepted the fact that this was now my life and I’d have to live in the drudgery forever…. Well, not quite.

I don’t think artist are ever the type of people to give up hope. If we were, then after the first rejection we’d give up all together, and trust me those famous writers, painters and musician we all know and love, they faced plenty of rejection on the road to success. So for me hope is never gone. Every once in a while I think, well maybe I’ll go back to school to get my second chance at what I love. Most recently, my glimmer of hope was when my husband got a job on the other side of the country and we were moving. For a short time, I thought it was my chance. I would have to now quit my job and would be free to pursue something I wanted. After all, I no longer had the motivation to work in a mundane career as I had had in the beginning. I didn’t necessarily need to support myself or maintain a full time job so that I could keep my health insurance. I had a husband with a good job and a health insurance plan. But my hope was squashed again, when my husband announced he wanted to buy our dream house not in five or ten years but as soon as possible and that meant that I would have to get a job as soon as possible. And of course, the only field in which I have any real experience was health care. So once again, I found myself pushed towards the practical job with a reliable paycheck in order to fulfill a material wish.

Whatever happened to my carefree artist mindset where money and material things didn’t matter? What happened to doing what I loved even if it meant my “home” was on the couch of whatever friend was willing to lodge me, and my stomping ground was the local coffee shop where I could only afford regular coffee because gourmet mixed drinks were far too expensive for an unemployed writer? How did I become this ordinary person whose big dream is now the big fancy house instead of doing what she loves? At what point did I decide that it wasn’t even worth trying to be a writer any more?

Well the truth is that I hope I haven’t given up trying to be a writer. I don’t know why I don’t write any more. Maybe I’m lazy after long days at work. Maybe I just don’t have time with everything else going on in my life. But I don’t think so. I think somewhere along the way, I started to believe them. I started to believe all the people who told me that writing wasn’t a viable career. That I should stick to something reliable like health care. I started to believe the consumer lie that says what we own is what defines us. But the truth is, I don’t want to believe that anymore. I don’t want to be defined by how nice is my house or car. I want to be defined as writer. I want people to define me by the excellence of my art. I want people to define me by the passion with which I live and write. I think that is what I miss the most about being a creative. I miss the passion. Not just the passion for one’s art, but also the passion for life. I don’t think I’ve been passionate about life for a while now. Life has become something I just do. Not something I particularly enjoy. And that’s the saddest part of my story. It’s not that I’ve seemingly given up on my dream. It’s not that I’ve settled for a job that doesn’t make me happy. It’s that I’ve seemingly lost my passion.

I know it’s a little late for New Year’s resolutions. And I’m not generally in the habit of making them anyway; as everyone knows they never last. So I’m not saying this is a resolution. But I would like to make a goal for myself. Not just for 2014 but for my life in general. My goal is to start doing what I love again. Just because my life has taken some turns that I didn’t want doesn’t mean I have to give up entirely. It just means I’m not there yet. I need to keep trekking. Maybe someday, I really will be able to be free of the day job and do what I love full time. But for now I need to put meaning, even just a little bit of meaning, back in to the phrase “I’m a writer.” I want to start writing every day again. I want to rediscover my passion for my art and for life. I want to finally finish that novel I’ve been “writing” for 4 years now. Maybe by 2015 I’ll really be able to say that I’ve finally finished a novel. Just maybe. Here’s hoping. 

The Feminine, Feminists, and Societal Perceptions

(Note: To anyone reading this who may disagree with me, that's fine. Please feel free to comment with your opposing opinions. I'm not threatened by opposing beliefs and I welcome constructive debate. However, I ask you to please keep it civil and focused on the topic at hand. That is to say, please do not use the comment section to insult me or any other commenters personally or to call other people names, simply because they hold a different view point. Let's keep this grown up. Calling names and insulting people really won't help to express your point of view. It really won't.) 

This is a topic that has really been weighing on me lately. So I've decided to return to the blogosphere after a fairly long hiatus (although let's face it, I've never been great at keeping up my blog.)

There is a lot in the news lately about women's rights, and these mostly focus on the subject of abortion, and while I have very specific views about those issues, that is not what I'm here to talk about today. I want to talk about some of the underlying feminist issues and perhaps provide a definition (or at least what I feel is the definition) of what it means to be a feminist and there by clearing up a lot of misconception and negativity that I see around in society and the internet.

Misconceptions:
1. Only women can be feminists.
- False. My husband is in fact a very proud feminist. A feminist is simply someone who feels that women should have equal rights and opportunity with men. So if you feel women shouldn't be held down in society based on their gender.. NEWS FLASH! You too are a feminist. And quite frankly we need more men to stand up and proudly announce that they support the gender equality movement.

2. All feminist hate men and must be lesbian
- False. While some women who are strongly feminist, do have negative feelings towards men, which are often caused by negative experience they've personally had regarding gender equality or the lack there of, you cannot lump all feminist women into a man hating category. Also, just because a feminist woman casts off the traditional gender roles or appearance of women does not make her a lesbian. Sexual preference is something completely different, so a generally good rule is to just not assume anything about a persons sexual preference, unless/until they chose to make that known.

3. Gender Equality isn't an issue here any more.
- False. Gender equality is still seen daily in our country. Women still on an average make only about 70% of what their male counterparts make. Now I wouldn't call that equal, would you? Also, there seems to be an increasing problem of objectification of women (yes it happens to men too but the overwhelming majority of it happens to women.) The is a really great video that addresses this issue.

4. A woman who embraces certain feminine traits can't be a feminist.
-False. And this is actually the one I would like to talk about the most (I mean let's face it, the other ones get their fair amount of press coverage, but this one I hardly ever see anything on.)

Okay so feminine women vs. feminists. This is one I struggle with on a daily basis. Why? Because I happen to be a fairly vocal feminist who likes feminine things. And yes, society and the internet try to make me feel terrible about the fact that I like dresses, high heels, cooking/baking, and domestic arts such as sewing and crocheting. They try to tell me that some how because I enjoy these things, I can't be feminist, as if the only thing that makes me a feminist is the casting off of everything feminine and the adoption of everything masculine. So the messages I often get from society say that if I am going to be a true feminist, I can't be feminine, which I totally disagree with. I don't believe the gender equality movement says that women need to change their basic natures, it simply says that women refuse to have their lives dictated by a male dominated society. It says that women are every bit as capable and intelligent as men and they should be able to have the same opportunities as men. So tell me how does my wearing a frilly dress make me less intelligent and capable? It doesn't.

So why does society have this perception? I think it started with women refusing to wear things, such as corsets and girdles. At the time they started throwing off these undergarments, it was something that society dictated they wear to be "respectable women." So the casting off of these gender specific items dictated to women as necessity became a representation of the bonds society had put on them. And for some reason, we have decided to view all things feminine as less legit; less respected. This video explains this to some extent but from the view of why men can't be interested in feminine things. And while she does a good job of explaining it, I think it goes so much farther to where there is even a taboo against women being interested in feminine things.

 But here's the thing, in the last 60 years or so, our society has changed, largely as a result of the gender equality movement. So our society no longer tries to force women into gender specific roles by the way they dress, they have other ways of forcing this on women (which I'll get to in a moment). And let's face it, the gender equality movement was kind of about letting women make their own choices. So why are women who choose to be feminine ostracized for being anti-feminist. Isn't that kind of counter productive? And really, since when was having equal opportunities with men about how we dressed, I mean come on.

So this takes me back to the ways society now tries to force women into gender specific roles, and a lot of this come back to the objectifying issue. It's every where. Media is pushing this idea at us that women are supposed to be sexual creatures, and this in my opinion is starting to undo much of what the last 60 year of the gender equality movement has been all about. (Seriously, if you haven't watched the above video, you totally should.) Some how, the media has managed to take perfectly intelligent women and convince them that their role in society, regardless of what else they do in society, is to be sexual objects. And it effects us all, me included. This is the mentality that attacks us saying, "I need to lose those 10 extra pounds to be truly attractive." "If I go outside my house without make up, people will judge me." And so many more totally trivial things that go through our heads every day telling us we are inadequate because that is what the media is teaching us. And it's all completely crap. I am sure you've all seen the videos showing you what a model goes through in her transformation, including photoshop, before her face and body are printed in the ads or magazines (if you haven't I'll post that link  here as well). This is not a new subject. It's everywhere. And it's effecting everyone; making us think we have to live up to these impossible standards of beauty, when the real truth is, not matter your size, no matter your imperfections, no matter whether you are dressed to the 9s or wearing makeup or not, you are perfectly wonderful just the way you are. And that, people, is the new attack on the gender equality revolution. It's no longer the dictation of women need to wear to be respectable (people kind of wear whatever they want these days). It's no longer the idea that women can't get an education or good jobs. It's the idea that no matter what our accomplishment are, not matter what our interests and thoughts are, that some how we are subpar because we can't live up to the impossible photoshopped standards that society has set for us. Just imagine what would happen if women everywhere started loving themselves for who they are not who they "should be according to the media." It would be amazing. But this is a fight that can't just be won by rallies and petitions. This a fight that every woman and every feminist needs to fight within themselves. Wouldn't it be amazing if we could reach a point where not only did women have equal opportunity as men but that they could accept that within their own selves? And I personally believe that until we can accept that, there will always be a deficit for gender equality. Women tend to under value themselves and their accomplishments, and it seems to me that this might just stem from this idea that we simply can't live up to the standards that society creates for us. And that mentality is the most poisonous mentality anybody can have. It's the mentality that no matter how hard we try we will not be good enough. So we then down play ourselves, hoping that if we set expectations lower then we will not be such a disappointment to society.

I want to cast off that idea that no matter how hard I try, I simply won't be good enough because it's not true. And yes, it's a daily battle for me. I struggle with insecurities that are physical, emotional, and mental. And some days I lose and some days I win. But over all, I want to win. I want to be free from the constant message of inadequacy. I want my future children to grow up in a world where they know that their merits are based on their capabilities and accomplishments not on shallow messages.

Thoughts on Memorial Day

Today, I see splashed across social media pictures of grave stones with American flags and all sorts of sayings about remembering those who died for our freedom, and while that is all well and good, and yes I do believe those people should be remembered, I have some thoughts I wanted to share. 

It is easy to think about our own losses; our friends, our neighbors, our relatives and our countrymen, who have paid the ultimate price for their nation's cause. But how often do we consider that in war there is always more than one side? 

It's too easy to dehumanize the other side. To lump them all into one big general category - "the enemy." We tell ourselves that it's okay to kill them because they are in the wrong. It's okay to kill them because they want to kill us. We conveniently forget that to make generalizations about any one group is completely incorrect. That each person on "their side" is a much a unique individual as our own army. We cannot possibly know the motivations they have for serving their cause. In today's war, we prefer to think that all the people we fight are cold, heartless terrorist, but is it not just as likely that there are boys who want glory just as much as the boys in our own military? Is it not just as likely that there are young people who have never stopped to consider what the implications of their belief system mean, just as there are many who have never questioned what they were always taught in this country? Is it not likely that there are some who sign up as their duty to protect their country just as many sign up here to protect America?

I read a blog post recently by writer Kameron Hurley. She says, "Language is a powerful thing, and it changes the way we view ourselves, and others, in delightful and horrifying ways. Anyone with any knowledge of the military who pays attention to how the media talks about war has likely caught on to this. We don't kill "people." We kill "targets" (or japs or gooks or ragheads). We don't kill "fifteen year old boys" but "enemy combatants" (yes, every boy 15 and over killed in drone strikes now is automatically listed as an enemy combatant. Not a boy. Not a child)." 

The harsh reality comes down to that no matter ones motivation for fighting, they are still human beings. They are still someone's husband, father, son, brother, sister, daughter, wife, or mother. And in many realities, they are not merely military or al-quaeda. Do we stop to consider how many innocent civilians die in war zones? How their lives are affected because others decided that their lives and homes were no longer sacred? 

Mark Twain points out in his short story "The War Prayer" that there are always two sides. "God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two – one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of His Who hearth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this – keep it in mind. If you beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it. [...] You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory – must follow it, cannot help but follow it."

In the popular book and TV series Game of Thrones, the character Eddard Stark explains to his son why he himself executed a man who had deserted his post at "The Wall." He said, "The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword." In this story, the character firmly believes that it is easy to forget how important life is and what it is to kill, if a sentence is passed on to be carried out by a headsman. One is more likely to consider the sentence seriously before passing it, if he himself is carrying out the punishment. To me this is not unlike what we do today. In the fantasy world of Eddard Stark, if a king or noble man uses an executioner instead of doing it himself, he is dehumanizing the man or woman he has condemned by not looking them in the eyes; by not acknowledging that their life is sacred and should not be taken lightly. 

Is life in the our world no less important? Should we not take killing as seriously as that fictional man? Is any life so trivial that it should be take so lightly as we take "the enemies" life in war? Should we not look into their eyes and consider who they are as a person, not as "the enemy?" Should we not consider who that person is leaving behind to mourn for him? 

On Memorial day would it not be appropriate to not only remember those who died in the service of our country but also those who died in the service of other countries? 

A friend expressed to me once that she loved history because it was true and could not be disputed. To this I replied that she should perhaps think about it this way; while you cannot dispute dates when certain events took place, much of history is really just the story of the victor. Who decides which side is right and which is wrong? The victor. Who decides what accounts are penned down? The victor. Would history not be very different if the tides of any great war had gone the other way? Might we not be singing a different song about those we consider to be heroes and great people if we had been on the other side? Do we ever consider what history might look like from the losing side? In his novel, The Lost Symbol, Dan Brown says. "Angels and demons were identical - interchangeable archetypes - all a matter of polarity. The guardian angel who conquered your enemy in battle was perceived by your enemy as a demon destroyer."

So today, let us not forget those we've lost. Those who bravely died for this country. But also, let us not forget that war is not one sided. Let's not forget those who died on "the other side." Let us not trivialize life, for every life is valuable and important, no matter who it belongs to.

Searching for Rainbows

It is the moments we feel we’ve hit rock bottom when we have the greatest opportunity to grow. At rock bottom we have two choices, we can stay put letting our misfortunes take control of our lives, while feeling sorry for ourselves. Or, we can go in the only direction that is left: up.

I came upon this realization when I recently had one of these rock bottom experiences. In the course of about 12 hours, I found myself single and jobless. That is a lot for one person to handle period and to cram it all into one day is nearly unbearable. I’ll admit that at first my future didn’t look very bright. I spent about a week moping around in my bathrobe and crying a lot.

While the doctor I had been working for had decided not to keep me on his staff, the company had offered me another position doing data entry for their transition to electronic medical records. They said I could take some time to think it over and get back to them on whether I would accept the job. If I chose to take the position, I would start after the New Year.

I’ll admit that I thought data entry would be incredibly tedious and dull, and it was just about the last job I wanted to do. Never the less, by the end of my first week at home feeling sorry for myself, I decided a boring job would be better than no job. That was my first step up.

The second week, I went to my grandma’s house for Christmas vacation. At first I was reluctant to go because I was so depressed I didn’t think I could face my family. In retrospect it was the best thing I could have done at the time. I have a very close, loving and supportive family, and they did a lot to lift my mood and help me see a brighter future.

The weather had been unusual for Wisconsin. New Years Eve arrived and we still had not seen snow since our trek north. With about an hour left of the old year, I looked out the window and noticed it’d been snowing with about 4 inches already accumulated. I’m not a fan of cold weather, so it was a bit odd that I was over come by the desire to take a walk in the snow. The street was deserted; I suppose everyone was inside ringing in the New Year. But there I was, alone and heartbroken walking through the quite village neighborhood. The world looked so picturesque and beautiful. It hit me that the snow had come just in time to cover the brown world in a blanket of white for the New Year; a fresh start so to speak. I felt that nature was somehow at that moment symbolic of my life. I knew I had a choice. I could continue to feel sorry for myself, or I could look at 2012 as a fresh start. It was then I made my New Years resolution. I resolved to learn to be content with where I am in my life, while working towards where I want to be. In 2012, I would look for something each day that I could be happy about or thankful for.

I realized that I had been unhappy for a while. I hadn’t had clear career goals since about my junior year of college, and my post college life had been rather disappointing. I had not wanted to move back in with my parents but had found that it was my best option at the time. I had not found a job in my degree field and had been working jobs I was unhappy with just pay my bills. I had no real direction in my life and the thought that this was it for me was incredibly hard to deal with. I had escaped into a relationship in the attempt to find some happiness, and while I was happy with him, when one’s happiness is solely based on another person, it will eventually crash down at your feel.

It has been in the last month that I began truly searching my soul for answers to what I want from life. And in a short amount of time, I have discovered things I have been aimlessly trying to figure out for years. While I can’t say I’m necessarily happy, I am for the first time in a while content. I’m still depressed. I still feel lonely and hurt. I still feel like I’m so far away from where I want to be. But I now feel that I can finally get on track to be there someday. I have discovered a career goal I am passionate about and am going back to school to pursue that goal. I’m making an effort to branch out and grow my very minuscule social group. I have been getting back in touch with old friends with whom I have neglected to keep in touch with mostly due to distance. And while these friends are far away, I am happy to have their support and friendship in my life. As far as the new job, there are moments it can be tedious, but I don’t really mind it. I really like the people I work with, and I’m not sure whether it is my new attitude towards life in general, but I am the happiest I have been at a job for a while.

I’ve come to the conclusion that although I can be negative at times, deep down I am truly an optimist. I believe that there is beauty in the world. I believe that every situation no matter how bad it might seem has some good as well, you just might have to look a little harder to find it. My goal for this year is to find the good in every situation.

In the movie “Finding Nemo,” Marlin and Dory are searching for Marlin’s lost son, Nemo. At one point, Marlin feels he has lost all hope. Dory the ever optimist says, “When life gets you down, you know what you got to do? Just keep swimming.” That is the kind of person I want to be. When I feel like life has kicked me around and I can’t go any lower, I want to be the kind of person to say, “Just keep swimming.” I want to be able to gather the pieces of my shattered life and start my journey up from rock bottom.

A Native American proverb that I really like says, “The soul could not have rainbows if the eyes had no tears.” This year I want to find my rainbows. I want to take this opportunity to grow as a person. I want to turn my tears into joy.

Matchmaker Universe, make me a match.

In the not so very distant past, I confided in a friend about a certain relationship predicament. Her consoling words to me were, "If it's meant to be, it'll work out somehow."

While I appreciate my friends willingness to listen and her attempt at making me feel better, this is a concept that I simply cannot accept. It seems like I meet a lot of people who share this idea that somehow, miraculously, everything will simply fall into place. That some where out there, is a soulmate who is also waiting for the universe to gently place them into the same vicinity where upon meeting they'll fall madly in love and live happily ever after. And then these same people seem to wonder why their relationships so often go wrong. (Now I fully admit that I'm not an expert on love. However, I do spend a lot of time observing people.)

We see this mind set all the time in books, movies and TV. Our culture seems to surround us by mushy love stories of meant for each other couples who against all odds still can work things out. The guys from the internet show, What You Ought to Know, came up with a formula for this idea that is repeatedly seen in romantic comedies (click the link to see the whole video): city scape, theme music, meant for each other, misunderstanding, chase scene, make up, make out, theme music, city scape, the end. While this is a humorous take on this idea, I believe it actually has a lot of merit.

The reason that all romantic comedies and even other stories, can be so predictable is because they are stories; Works of fiction. And while a nice diversion from life, often do not mimic reality. These types of stories are probably the brain child of some poor romantic soul, who is trying to through their work rewrite their own disappointing stories to finish with a happier ending. Take Jane Austin, for example, she wrote all of her stories so that the girl got the rich, handsome man because her own life didn't work out that way.

Now I realize that this makes me sound like a terrible cynic, but bear with me. It's not that I don't believe love exist because I do. I believe, however, that the popular ideas of soul mates, hollywood love, and happily ever after, are a bit simplistic. I don't believe that there is one person out that that is unequivocally meant to be with me. I believe their are people that are better suited for me than others, based on personality, interests, beliefs, etc, but that there are many men out there that I could be very happy with. I also believe that am I lucky enough to find one of these men, that it's not going to automatically fall into place for me. The universe simply doesn't work that way. The only way a relationship will work out is if both parties are equally committed to making that relationship work. I don't subscribe to the idea that love is some fluttery, warm fuzzy feeling you get when you're with someone. That's infatuation. Love is a much deeper emotion that must be cultivated over time and takes an incredible amount of work to maintain. And even with both people being equally committed, it's not going to be easy. So going back to the previously mentioned relationship predicament, I knew that it wouldn't work out because we were not equally committed to making it work.

So next time you're wondering why your romance didn't work out like the movies, remember the universe isn't a friendly matchmaker. It works rather more like a swift kick from reality to propel you into action to make that relationship work.

(I would love to hear reactions to this post.)

Hat Mania!

Recently I've become very bored with my current wardrobe and have decided to start to change it up. Since I can't completely replace all my clothing, I've been trying to find ways to make what I have more chic and unique. I love the vintage look, and I've been playing around with various accessories such as scarves, jewelry and hats. Hats are my new obsession. I love them! Every time I wear them I get the nicest smiles and compliments.

With all the buzz about the royal wedding, I decided I wanted to try my hand at making a hat from materials I already had around the house. Using some scrap fabric, an old headband, a ribbon, a piece of cardboard, some feathers and a hot glue gun, I created this. I wore it church and got some great compliments, although my mom told me that I need to add more trimmings to make it more flamboyant. I think I agree with her.

This is my most recent hat acquisition. I saw it at Target and thought it was too cute to pass up. I wore it to a graduation last weekend and as usual got many compliments on it. One older lady said she was so thrilled to see me wearing a hat. We then had a lovely conversation about hats and fashion. It seems to me the older generation really like when I wear hats, this is probably because it reminds them of when all the ladies wore hats.

This is my favorite hat. It's vintage and was given to me by a friend who bought it thinking she would like it, then decided it wasn't really her style. I adore it. The broad brim is glamorous, and I love the beautiful simplicity of it.

This is my newsie hat that my friend Joni knitted for me. Unfortunately, it's wool and it accidentally got sent through the wash and got a bit felted, so the cable detail isn't as noticeable. I was able to stretch it back out to fit my head and it still looks cute.

This final hat was my grandmothers. I wore it to a 1940's themed formal event in college. I think it's fantastic.

Tea with the Mad Hatter

So, I'm kind of having fun writing poetry. I love Alice in Wonderland, so I thought it would be fun to write a poem about the Mad Hatter. It still needs some work but here is it anyway.

Tea with the Mad Hatter

If I were to have tea with the Mad Hatter

What fun it would be, with riddles

And nonsense and crumpets and tea.

A chat with the March Hare, how confusing!

He’s quite off his rocker, that is if he had one

Which I honestly doubt, so he’s the sanest around.

The Hatter, you see, is crazy as they come,

But what if they’re going? I think you’ll agree

The Hatter is just as sane as you and me.

Of course, they say I’m not all there, but

If I’m not all there, then I must be all here.

And isn’t here the best place to be?

If you say what you mean, do you

Mean what you say? Have I taken leave of

My senses, or have they taken leave of me?

I’ll ponder the riddle until my brain is quite sore.

Ravens and writing desks, the answer is there,

To those with madness like the Hatter and Hare.

“Time has been killed” the queen proclaimed

So it’s “Teatime forever” the Hatter exclaims

Three spots to the left and it all starts again.

So if you’ve gone bonkers, join us please.

Sit back and enjoy a nice cup of tea with

The Hatter, the Hare, the Dormouse and me.

Samson the Flatulent

On my walk today I found myself wishing I had a dog to take with me. This brought to mind a memory from the year I was an international volunteer on the island of Palau. My roommate and I decide we needed a regular exercise routine, and so for the period of about a month we regularly got up at 5 a.m to go walking. We chose to go so early for a couple reasons; It gave us plenty of time to exercise and still get ready for school on time, and since the sun had not yet come up, it was the coolest part of the day.

Since it was still dark and there were wild dogs, not to mention we were young women, we decided it would be best to have some sort of protection for ourselves. So, we would take our friends' black lab, Samson, with us. Looking back I'm not sure why we thought that Samson would be good protection, since he was really the type of dog that would kill you with love. Luckily he never had to prove to us whether or not he had that fighter instinct in him. He did, however, prove something else to us. Samson was the most flatulent dog I had ever seen.

Each morning we would head up the hill to our friends' house, and Samson would greet us excitedly. We would put the leash on and take off on our walk. Samson would prance in front of us as if he were a king and we were his courtiers. With each step he would exude squeaky farts, blissfully unaware of his gastrointestinal problem.

Unfortunately, my roommate and I both got sick, which successfully put an end to our exercise routine. But we didn't stop loving that dog.

The Music Box

This month is National Poetry Writing Month (napowrimo) and although I'm not actually participating in the 30 poems in 30 days challenge, I thought it would be fun to at least write some poetry. So here is the first poem I've written this month.

The Music Box

Childhood treasures

Lost from adult consciousness

Enthrall the childish imagination

Somewhere deep inside.

Spinning 'round and 'round

To delicate tunes

She steals my heart away

With her smiling eyes.

The world seems bright and happy

Filled with hopes and dreams

Far beyond the little girl in ruffles

And her Irish figurine.

Surprise Party? Sure thing!

I went to Red Robin today. It made me think of the first time I went to Red Robin, which was without a doubt the most memorable time.

To give you a little back ground, I am a rather shy and quiet person until one gets to know me, so upon arriving at college for the first time, I was worried I wouldn't make friends. This was quiet unnecessary because for some reason, within the first two days I was singled out by Julie, one of the most bubbly and out going people I know, to be her best friend. We were pretty much inseparable. It just so happened that we had three classes together. It was in our Public Speaking class that we met Beau. Our professor divided the class into Speech groups. We were to get together with our groups every week and practice our speeches on them before we gave them in front of the class and our professor. Beau, Julie and I all ended up in the same group and we click. Before we knew it, the three of us were hanging out outside of class and Beau's best friend, Krissy, joined us as well.

The four of us hung out all the time. So it was no surprise that Krissy came to Julie and I to tell us that she was planning a surprise birthday party for Beau at Red Robin on Saturday night at 8 o'clock. Neither Julie or I had a car at the time so Krissy suggested we call her friend Holly and ask to catch a ride with her. We called Holly and made the arrangements and were looking forward to the weekend. We made it through most of the week without mentioning the weekend or any plans to Beau. Then on Friday night, Beau approached the us and asked what we were doing saturday night. We were a bit taken back but managed to sufficiently convince him that we didn't really have anything planned. He didn't even seem to notice our slightly nervous responses. The rest of the conversation went something like this (and I promise I am not making this up):

Beau: "Good. Krissy's birthday is coming up and I want to throw her a surprise birthday party."

Us: "Oh okay."

Beau: "We're going to do it tomorrow night at Red Robin at 8 o'clock. Can you guys be there?"

(At this point we are fighting really hard to hold back the laugher that wanted to exploded forth.)

Us: "Sure. We'll be there"

Beau: "Good. If you need a ride, you can call Holly."

After he walked away, Krissy came to talk to us to make sure we could still make it the following evening and to assure us that Beau had no idea that we were throwing a surprise party for him.

We both thought it quite funny that two of our good friends had just planned the same surprise birthday party for each other. In fact, it was so bizarrely the same that it was hard to believe that they didn't know about each other's plans.

Well, Saturday night at 8 o'clock Julie, Holly and I arrived at the restaurant and sat down with the group of people to wait for the arrival of the birthday people. Beau was of course in charge of getting Krissy to her surprise party and Krissy was in charge of getting Beau to his surprise party. While we waited, we chatted with the other guests in attendance and learned that not only did they plan the same party but they invited exactly the same people as well.

As Beau and Krissy entered the restaurant, we held up a banner that said, "Happy Birthday, Beau and Krissy", and yelled surprise. Beau and Krissy both turned to each other expecting to see the surprise in their friend's face. But the surprise that we all saw was much much better, when it dawned on them exactly what they had done. Best. Birthday Party. Ever!

Plenty of Fish in the Sea

The dating scene can be tough, but there is always someone who seems almost ridiculously optimistic on your behalf. Usually these are the people who have already been lucky enough to find someone special and therefore can afford to be optimistic about love. One of my favorite phrases that these people use in an attempt to encourage me, is "there are plenty of fish in the sea". I love this particular saying because it always conjures up comical images of. . .well. . . fish. Whenever I hear this, I usually imagine something like this:

(In case you can't read what she's thinking, it says, "I'm going to be alone forever.")

I hope this made you smile. :-) Have a nice day, and remember... there are plenty of fish in the sea.

I Shall Return to Finish What I Have Started

This last November, I participated in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is 50,000 words in 30 days. Well, I sadly fell very short of my goal and have been fairly unmotivated to write since the end of NaNoWriMo. This is particularly troublesome since this is what I want to do with my life. If I want to make it as a writer, I can’t let my work sit lost in some dark recess of my hard drive waiting for its creator to return. Like Edward Scissor Hands, my novel is not finished. It is a mass of jumbled, barely legible words; an incomplete thought. I do not want to leave it to fend for itself in a cruel world without a purpose, without an identity, without hands (metaphorically speaking). So one of my goals in 2011 is to finish my novel. I may even be so bold as to set a goal to have my first draft finished by March. Let the writing begin.

How to Make Mundane Everyday Tasks More Exciting

I recently received a scolding for not having blogged in a long time. The truth is I often think about things I should blog on and sometimes even start thoughts but then never finish them, hence no posts in the last couple month. I admit that I am terrible at keeping things updated. But seeing as it is a new year, I suppose it might be an appropriate time to try to improve upon myself. I’m not going to make a resolution, because resolutions are made to be broken, however I will make a New Year’s goal to try to blog more often in 2011. This will also join my New Year’s goals to watch my spending more closely and to lose that 15 pounds I’ve put on since I graduated.

However, I’m not going to write a blog about my New Year’s goals because I suspect that everyone else is doing that and you don’t need to read one more blog about the changes someone is going to make for the up coming year. Instead am going to tell you my secrets to making mundane everyday tasks seem a bit more exciting.

Now for these techniques, it really helps if you have an imagination, other wise they might not work and you’ll just end up looking silly. Actually, you’ll probably end up looking silly anyway, which brings me to the second thing you’ll need – very little shame. You can’t be concerned with what other people think, otherwise it’ll just make you feel miserable.

Tip 1: I’m sure we’ve all had days where work was just dragging on and all we really want is to go home. In these instances, I find that it helps to hum the theme song to an exciting movie. Whatever is your favorite will work just fine. I find that humming the A Team theme helps work seem more epic and pass quickly. If you have a job that requires you to move about you can also walk in a sneaky manner and even throw in a few spy rolls. My theory is that life should have a soundtrack, that way you would always feel like every moment of your life is exciting and important.

Tip 2: Grocery shopping is not always the most exciting task. However, unless you grow all of your own food, you will find that it is nearly unavoidable all the time. So if you want to make this mundane task more exciting, you should turn grocery shopping into a game. I find that it helps to image my shopping cart as a game of Tetris and each item that I place into it is a funny shaped block that needs to be placed just right or else I will LOSE my game. You can also hum the Tetris theme, which helps it all seem more real.

Tip 3: One of my least favorite chores is doing the dishes. I have been unfortunate in that every place I have ever lived has NOT had a dishwasher. So if you are like me and find that you spend a good chunk of time washing dishes, here is what I do. There are two options for this chore. If you have a spouse or housemate, beware they may find this to be rather bothersome, but you’ll have fun. Option number one, this is the time when you get to be that pop star, opera singer or Broadway actor/actress that you’ve always wanted to be. It doesn’t matter whether you can actually sing or not. Pick your favorite tunes and croon them at the top of your lungs. Option number two, put on your favorite radio station or iTunes mix and dance around the kitchen as you work. The more ridiculous your dance moves, the better.

Tip 4: Laundry is one of those tasks that never are truly done. Even when you wash clothes there are more that immediately end up in the laundry. Whether you have to do your laundry at home or in Laundromat you can spruce up this mundane task with a little help from our friend Joss Whedon. If you find yourself a bit bored, hum tunes like Laundry Day from Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog. You can also imagine you are a secret evil villain and come up with your own plans for world domination. Or if you feel so inclined to be the cheesy super hero you can come up with your plans to stop the evil villain from his evil plans. And if you’re feeling particularly multi-personality, you can be both!

Tip 5: No matter the season there will always be some sort of yard work, whether it is weeding the garden, mowing the lawn, raking leaves, or shoveling the sidewalks, it is one of those pesky things that seems to stick around, unless you live in an apartment, in which case it is probably all done for you. The outdoors offers a great many possibilities, and they can change with each season. There are of course the obvious things like raking the leaves into a pile and taking a running leap into it. Trust me, you are never too old to jump into the middle of a pile of leaves. And snow in the winter offers many possibilities, such as throwing snowballs at passers by or the neighborhood children while you shovel the driveway. Snowmen are fun and you can be creative with snow sculptures. If you feel particularly mischievous you can build snowmen in the middle of people’s sidewalks or move all the snow from your sidewalk over to the sidewalk of that neighbor you dislike. There are of course less obvious options to help the time pass while you’re doing yard work. If you’re weeding the garden, use the mud to draw Native American war paint on your face and then dance around making up your own tribal dance. If you have to mow the lawn, pretend the lawn mower is a time machine that will take you to exciting places and eras. Use your imagination! The possibilities are endless.

Why I support my public library.

As a child, I remember going to the library with my mother. I would always walk out with a stack of books almost too big for me to carry. My brothers would have just as many and while I never recall my mother getting books, I’m sure she did. But at that age grown up books didn’t appeal to me. All of the books that the four of us would go home with would be checked out on my mother’s library card. I remember her keeping a careful watch on when the books were due. Could you imagine the fines we would accrue in a short amount of time with so many books? But my mother was always careful to return them on time. In fact, I’m not sure she has ever paid a library fine in her life.

When I was old enough to get my own library card I was thrilled. I would like to say that my mother’s careful watch of library due dates was one of the traits she passed on to me, but sadly it wasn’t. I try to be good and pay attention but somewhere along the three or so weeks I have a book I always forget. And it’s even worse than that because my childhood habit of walking out of the library with almost more books than I can carry has stuck with me. I often find myself at the counter of the library being asked, “Did you know you have some fines?” To this I usually reply, “No, but that doesn’t surprise me.”

I like to think that I’m actually doing some good by being so forgetful. It seems libraries struggle with funding from time to time. Paying fines makes me feel like I’m making a difference. In fact, sometimes it feels as if I’m supplying most of the libraries income. So if you want to know why I support my public libraries, the answer is simple. I love books, and I’m a bit scatterbrained.

How to be Bohemian

I have been told, recently, that I have a definite Bohemian vibe. Apparently this is a somewhat desirable style, so in the interest of all you out there who would like to perfect this Bohemian persona, I will give you a few pointers; things I do that make me Bohemian.

Step 1: The first thing you must do is to get a starving artist career. I chose out of work writer, but really any creative career that doesn’t pay shit will work just fine. Once you have achieved the poor artist status, the rest should come along pretty easily.

Step 2: Your appearance is very important. To achieve the Bohemian look, make sure to wear old, worn-out, poorly fitted clothing. It is important to remember to wear certain articles of clothing multiples times, such as jeans and sweatshirts. After all, your entire wardrobe should fit into a suitcase and you can’t afford to do laundry every few days. In addition, you should pretty much stop caring about whether your hair is perfect or you’re wearing make up.

Step 3: This step concerns your living arrangements. Since you’re a poor, out of work artist, you probably can’t afford a nice place. So your options are a cheap, but run down, tiny apartment, or moving in with someone who might appreciate a little help with the rent but doesn’t really need it. I, personally, chose the nomadic life. Sleeping on make shift beds, e.g. couches, futons, hide-a-beds, in living rooms of any friend who will take a little pity one me and offer a place to stay for a several weeks in exchange for a few buck to help with the bills. This life style is made easier by the fact that most of my belongings fit into a suitcase and my backpack.

Step 4: Mannerisms are very important. Of course the dark circles under your eyes add to your look and the constantly tired droop really screams Bohemian. Fortunately these are automatically taken care of by sleeping on uncomfortable make shift beds. Then there is the look in your eyes when a friend invites you over to eat. This is a look of pure happiness at the thought of eating something besides peanut butter sandwiches, ramen noodles, and cold cereal. Any day you get a full meal is a good day. Next, you need to frequent coffee shops. Of course, remember that you are too poor to buy the delicious but over priced mixed beverages, so you must stick to regular coffee, regular tea, or iced tea.

Step 5: Finally, you can’t live on nothing, so you’ll eventually need a job. This is no time to be prideful. Take anything you can get as long as it isn’t illegal or immoral. Those college degrees you worked so hard for don’t mean a thing. After several months of being unemployed, flipping burgers at McDonalds is looking pretty damn appealing.

(Disclaimer: This blog is meant to be a bit sarcastic and funny. I am by no means trying to provoke feeling of pity. I am actually quite happy, even though my life isn’t perfect.)

Peaceful Solitude

I’m writing this while sitting in one of my favorite chill spots. There are people around, but I don’t pay any attention to them. I am listening to music to drown out the world around me. I’m here because it’s peaceful and that’s what I need at this moment.

By nature, I tend to be a peacekeeper. Whether it is my personality, or the fact that I am a middle child (that is a common trait of middle children, so I read), I dislike conflict, and I like the people around me to get along. I also like keeping peace with-in myself.

Why do I mention this? Because I was also blessed, or cursed depending on how you look at things, with an incredible amount of empathy. This means that not only do I sympathize with the people around me, but also I actually can feel some of the same feelings they feel. I feed off of other peoples emotions. So another words, when I’m with someone who is very happy, I will feed off of their emotions and feel happy myself. But the opposite is also true. When I’m with someone who is depressed or sad, I will begin to feel that also. Actually, negative emotions seem to be stronger so I am pulled towards them more than the positive ones.

So when two or more members of my friends or family are not getting along, I feel very conflicted inside. Especially if I am caught in the middle, i.e. one or both parties vent their frustrations to me. I care about both sides, and so my emotions are being pulled in both directions. My brain isn’t sure how to respond.

It is these moments when I need to get away; to escape from people. Away from the situation, I can calm myself down and feel at peace again. Talking to a neutral third party doesn’t really help because it keeps the negative emotions at the surface, as well as adds the emotions of that person into the mix.

My solution: Solitude (or as close to it as I can get). I then turn to the one confidant I know I can trust not to add to my tumultuous emotional conflict: my journal. I have kept one since I was probably 12 years old. Empty pages have no emotions. They are always neutral, objective, and silent. This is why I write. Writing is my outlet. It’s how I solve problems. Sometimes it is the only way I know how to express myself. Writing brings me peace. Even if no one reads it, I must keep writing.